


The Sound of Settling

by groovyhedgehog (GroovyHedgehog)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Gen, Headcanon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GroovyHedgehog/pseuds/groovyhedgehog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inside of Charles' head during the divorce scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of Settling

**Author's Note:**

> Except, this entire thing sucks so bad. I almost cried at how horribly I’d written it. I don’t know why the bloody hell I’m even posting it up here… I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. Shoot me now. I think maybe when I hate it less I will go over it and re-do a lot of it. For now, cringe in horror at the badness of it?

Charles watched, squinting as sunlight and smoke stung his eyes. Moira gripped his shoulder as his focus snapped to the movement nearby. His mind still shuddered at the fresh memory of pain and betrayal--the feeling of metal ripping through his mind faded slowly as his eyes adjusted. The wrecked submarine that lay trashed on the shore nearby creaked and groaned as metal bloomed, peeling away from itself. A man drifted lazily through the gaping hole, arms spread like he was the Son of God himself, blood dripping from his forehead. Charles felt his breath catch and reached up to touch his forehead where the ghost of a death echoed.

“Sebastian Shaw,” he whispered to no one, breath still tearing through his lungs. “Erik, why…?”

Another figured appeared, hand outstretched toward Sebastian’s limp, dangling form: Erik, standing tall and proud, a new metal crown enveloping his head. Charles reached out in his desperation, but Erik’s thoughts were gone, hiding far away where he would never find them. Charles’ heart raced at the absence of his friend’s mind, his thoughts, his life force. He needed to know why, and he looked to Erik’s visage framed by the torn body of the submarine, eyes straining to meet the gaze he had come to need like air to breathe. Erik’s eyes averted, his lips pursed tightly, and he watched as the others began to move in battered confusion toward the levitating form of Sebastian.

“Today, our fighting stops!” Erik shouted over the wind and whirring and sizzling of the wreckage. His voice held no weakness--cold, smooth, and unmoving. Sebastian fell unceremoniously to the ground and a collective gasp followed the thump as the dead body hit the sand.

Charles didn’t see the others; all he could see was Erik, stepping forward. Erik, feet rising from the edge of the submarine. Erik, drifting through the air. Erik, meeting the sand with a proud stride that took him further away from Charles with every passing second.

“Take off your blinders, brothers and sisters. The real enemy is out there.”

Charles couldn’t help but follow Erik’s eyes as they fell offshore, to the two fleets of warships waiting in the sweltering sunlight.

“I feel their guns moving in the water. Their metal targeting us—”

What was he saying?

“Americans, Soviets, humans, united in their fear of the unknown.”

That wasn’t right. Why would they…? Charles tried to think, but the lingering pain flared and he bit his lip, straining to concentrate. He wasn’t aware that his feet were taking him closer to Erik, like a moth to the flame, or metal to the magnet. His eyes were glued to Erik, still reaching out like he was a lost child begging for shelter, knocking on the doors of a fortress that was denying him entry.

“The neanderthal is running scared, my fellow mutants!” Erik’s voice rang even clearer through the sunlight, drawing Charles ever closer. Their eyes finally met, and Charles felt a surge of life. “Go ahead, Charles,” Erik offered, then turned back to the warships in the distance. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Charles knew it wasn’t a taunt. He knew Erik was trying to show him a truth that he wasn’t ready to understand… that he hoped beyond all hope that he would never have to understand. But he nodded, anyways, and raised his fingers to his temple, turning his mind to the hundreds of sailors offshore.

Thoughts flooded his consciousness. Orders. Fear. Determination.

 _“Man the guns!”_

 _“God please, I have children… let this stop now…”_

 _“What the fuck are we fighting?”_

 _“This is madness.”_

 _“What were those freaks?”_

 _“Is this the end?”_

 _“There’s no way they can withstand a full assault.”_

Charles’ hand fell back to his side, shaking, his blue eyes wide in disbelief. He hadn’t felt a single thought of regret or disapproval. His heart tore a little and he strained to breathe; the air was thick and sharp in his lungs. Erik glanced his way, searching for the realization written so vividly across Charles’ face, but Charles turned away, defeated. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Moira’s pleas as she tried in vain to call off the attack, but the turrets locked into position, staring the mutants on the shore down. They refused to call off the attack.

“Hello? Hello?!” Moira’s voice echoed.

Silence. Charles’ eyes found Erik’s.

“Fire!”

A thousand explosions ripped through the air and the skies darkened with metal rain. The cloud soared closer, closer, glinting in the sunlight, trailing smoke in its wake, until Charles could almost see his reflection in the missiles, and then…

They stopped.

Erik’s hand raised, outstretched to the death that lingered above them so helplessly now, eyes narrowed in concentration. It nearly took Charles’ breath away to see Erik standing there, power in the palm of his hand, pushing his potential with every ounce of his will. Perfection. Charles’ lips slipped so effortlessly into a smile as pride swelled inside his chest so much he thought he’d burst.

The cloud of missiles began to sway, then turn, and Charles knew what Erik was going to do. Panic tore through the pride. Innocent lives balanced on the edge of a metal knife that was held by a man who held the power to crush the knife altogether. “Erik, you said yourself that we’re the better men,” he turned to Erik, his voice accented in anxiety. “This is the time to prove it.” His eyes pleaded with his friend, but Erik’s focus remained fast on the missiles as they turned steadily toward the fleet offshore. Charles’ heart beat so fast he could feel the pulse through every vein. “There are thousands of men on those ships! Good, honest, innocent men! They’re just following orders!”

Something snapped in Erik’s stance. The hand outstretched to the missiles tensed, and his gaze fell for the briefest of moments as a memory flashed in his eyes. Charles could almost see the memory… A memory that he only just now remembered seeing so vividly in Erik’s mind. Soldiers, following bloody orders.

“I’ve been at the mercy of soldiers just following orders…” Erik replied quietly, then turned his head, eyes meeting Charles’ again - a steel gaze that meant his mind was made up. “Never again.”

The missiles shot off toward the warships.

“Erik, release them!”

Faster, the metal cloud of death soared to the thousands of helpless lives. There wasn’t time to think. “No!” Charles screamed, charging at Erik, and before the other man could react, Charles knocked him to the ground, pinning him hard into the sand. Explosions tore through the afternoon as they struggled on the ground and Charles stole the control of the missiles away from Erik. Punches landed on both bodies, blood staining their clothes, but Charles couldn’t feel that pain.

The throbbing in his head was getting worse as he struggled to keep the control of the missiles in his power while trying desperately to tear the metal helmet from Erik’s head. Erik’s elbow knocked him hard in the face and Charles lost control, sinking to the ground with a cry. He couldn’t let Erik win this. So many men… he heard their thoughts still, distant, faint, like whispers on the wind.

 _“God, I’m sorry.”_

 _“I never got to kiss her…”_

 _“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die!”_

 _“What the fuck is going on?”_

 _“This is the end of the world, isn’t it?”_

All those voices… All those lives, lost. He couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t.

“Erik, stop!”

He fought to pry the helmet away again, but Erik stopped him with a hard punch to the face again and his head pounded so hard his stomach began to churn.

 _“Gentlemen, it’s been an honor serving with you…”_

 _“Comrades, thank you for your service.”_

By the time Charles rolled over, Erik was on his feet again, steadily walking toward the shoreline, hand outstretched, missiles soaring ever faster.

“No,” Charles whispered. “It won’t end like this…”

He shoved himself to his feet and lunged at Erik as gunshots split the air. His eyes caught the movement too late; Erik deflected the bullets, sending one hard and fast toward Charles. Pain pierced his flesh and shattered through his spine. His body arched in the air and he fell to the ground as a silent cry lost itself in the chaos. Seconds passed as the pain grew, then began to trickle away… Erik’s arms suddenly enveloped him and Charles cried out as he felt the bullet force its way back out of his body, yearning for Erik’s magnetic touch.

Everything was fading in and out, the voices of celebration on the warships, the mutants’ fear and disbelief, Moira’s shame and guilt, the steady wall in front of Erik’s mind and the warmth of Erik’s touch… The betrayal Charles felt stinging his heart earlier returned and settled inside him like the lead wall Erik now wore around his mind. Charles strained to look through the fog that had clouded his vision. He could see Erik’s eyes stare in horror at the bullet he know held cupped in his hand.

“Charles… I’m so sorry…” Erik’s voice trembled. The others rushed to help Charles, but Erik tensed and growled. “Back off!” His eyes found Moira and Charles could feel the anguish rolling off of him like heat. “You… You did this.”

He lifted his hands and the dog tags around Moira’s neck tightened, cutting into her throat, strangling the air from her. Charles tried to move, but pain ripped through his body and he fell back into Erik’s arms, helpless.

“Please!” Charles watched as Moira’s choked and tried desperately to tear the chains away from her neck. “She didn’t do this, Erik,” he hissed. “You did.”

Erik’s eyes slowly lowered from Moira’s struggling body to Charles in his arms. Realization and guilt mingled together in his gaze, the way his shoulders hunched and his lips parted, and Charles felt the stronger man’s arms shaking around his helpless body. Erik could see the pain in Charles’ eyes, the heartbreak, the chaos.

“Us turning on each other,” Erik tried, his voice still trembling. “It’s what they want. I tried to warn you, Charles.” Their eyes were locked so tight, sharing everything, thoughts, memories, feeling. Charles didn’t need to pry into Erik’s mind to know his soul, but he tried one last desperate time, reaching out with everything he was. “I want you by my side.” Erik’s voice was almost a possessive growl. “We’re brothers, you and I.”Erik’s eyes raised for a fleeting moment to the others standing around, watching them. “All of us, together.” Charles knew it was an afterthought. “Protecting each other.” Erik’s arms tightened around Charles and his eyes pleaded. “We want the same thing…”

Charles felt his heart sink into something cold and he shook his head. “No, my friend. I’m sorry… but we do not.”

The silence that fell between them was deafening. The light in Erik’s eyes faded like the moon’s light beneath stormy clouds. Charles was going numb fast. When Erik tore away from him his body shuddered, unsettled at the sudden lack of his friend’s strong, unending warmth, which was quickly replaced by a soft, feminine touch. Moira’s touch wasn’t the same. Everything was a blur after that… Erik’s voice mingled with the other’s and soon they were left alone on the beach. The numbness that had settled in his heart now fell over his legs as he tried desperately to move.

“I can’t feel my legs…”

And I can’t feel you, my friend.


End file.
